I stood there staring,
staring into broken glass and a tilted frame.
Yes, I have a broken mirror;
And I say it without any shame,
for it shows me not what it sees
but what I am.
I could see the sun when I laughed,
and when I cried It showed me the rain.
With all the bad luck it brings,
nothing was ever in vain.
It never mattered if I failed,
through cracks and holes the image ever prevailed.
I step out of my house to be imperfect again,
With the world so divided and our sights so short,
We will never see beyond the faces of men.
Craving perfection to have your own fort?
A broken mirror is all you need then.